


Five Days From Sunday

by Noelleian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Banter, Drama, Fluff, He also has a bit of a potty mouth, Humor, M/M, Quat Is Not A Winter Person, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 02:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7082341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those nights in Manitoba were harsh enough without the ten feet of snow, the broken snowmobile, the hypothermia, or the grizzlies camping out on the porch. When Trowa suggested a romantic getaway in the countryside, this was not what Quatre had envisioned. Now, if he can only survive the next five days in the frozen tundra without feeding his boyfriend to the bears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Days From Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying really hard to push through this mental block so please 'bear' with me haha. *ahem* Sorry. Many thanks to hjbender for the trope suggestion. ^_^
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing but this silly, little story.

Quatre stared through the frosty panes of glass into the vast frozen wilderness of Manitoba, Canada and contemplated strapping Trowa to the front of the Snow Cat to ride out the harrowing trip back to the states in the sub zero winds. He would thaw out eventually, Quatre mused. Maybe. He wasn't so sure now that either of them would ever be unfrozen. 

Sunday. They would head home on Sunday, which was an excruciating five days away. He made sure to remind Trowa of this at least once every hour. He was certain, now more than ever that Trowa was some sort of closet masochist because, if this was his idea of a good time, he definitely had a few loose screws somewhere.

When Trowa decided to surprise him with a 'cozy, romantic getaway' in the ice capped mountains of Canada, Quatre was initially intrigued. He'd pictured an adorable log cabin with a roaring fire. He'd pictured cuddling under blankets with hot cocoa and watching the snow fall outside. Pictured making love in front of the hearth on a bear skin rug. 

Unfortunately, the reality was far different than fantasy. He watched a grizzly bear pass by the window and realized, with a rush of adrenaline, that a thin layer of glass was a flimsy barrier between himself and certain death. If that bear really wanted in, there wasn't much Quatre could do to stop it. 

The bear paused its trek through the ungodly amount of snow on the ground. Its head turned and Quatre's heart stopped as man and beast came face to face. Did that thing just sneer at him? Quatre swore he could almost read its thoughts.

_You think you're safe in there, human? Ha. Ha. Ha. You might want to sleep with one eye open because I'm watching you, pal._

Quatre gulped and absently questioned his sanity. They'd been there less than twenty four hours and he was already showing signs of cabin fever. 

"Trowa?"

His lover appeared in the doorway, his brown hair still mussed from sleep. Quatre wanted to smack him for his ability to sleep like the dead no matter where he was. "What is it, babe?"

Quatre watched the bear shake snow off its fur and continue on its way. He shuddered and pulled the blanket around his shoulders a little tighter. "Nothing."

Trowa watched him silently for another moment, then nodded, disappearing into the bedroom again. "Thought we'd go ice fishing today."

Oh, joy. As if it wasn't cold enough in here, now Trowa wanted him to freeze his ass off outside while sitting over a hole in the ground with a plastic pole. He entertained the likely possibility that he was not going to make it through this trip alive. He'd always thought there wasn't much that could phase him after fighting in two wars, but this...this _winter_ shit was proving him wrong. He sighed and unwrapped himself from the warm security of the blanket and dropped it onto the arm of the couch.

He shuffled into the bathroom and pulled his pajamas off, shivering in the chilled air. There was no central heating system. Only a fireplace and two wood stoves and the bathroom did not have said stoves. He pulled the shower curtain aside and cocked his head when he caught sight of the faucet. He turned and hollered, alarm evident in his voice.

" _Trowa?_ "

Like a typical knight in shining armor, Trowa barged in, the door banging off the adjacent wall. "What? What? What's wrong?"

Quatre pointed at the single faucet nozzle. " _Why_ is there only a cold water nozzle?"

Trowa scratched the back of his head and smiled, a little guiltily. "Erm...yeah. Sorry, babe. There's no hot water."

" _What?!_ "

"I'm sorry! I didn't know. The travel agent didn't disclose that."

Quatre narrowed his eyes. "Then how do you already know there's no hot water?"

Trowa blushed. "I noticed last night when I used the bathroom."

Quatre glared murderously at his boyfriend. "You realize if I manage to survive this trip, I'm going to kill you."

Trowa smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, baby. I really am."

Quatre turned away. "I'll bet you are." He made a shooing gesture with his hand. "Out. I only hope you know how to treat hypothermia because I'm about to subject myself to it."

Trowa rolled his eyes and left the bathroom. "You're such a drama queen."

Quatre glared at the closed door, wishing he had laser vision. He turned on the faucet, watching the shower head sputter as it pushed out the air that had accumulated in the pipes. It took a few minutes for the well water to finally begin flowing freely and Quatre waited impatiently with his hands on his hips. He stuck his palm beneath the spray and cursed when frigid water flowed over his hand.

"Here goes nothing."

He squeezed his eyes shut, held his breath, and stepped beneath the spray.

" _Aaaaaaaaaargh!_ "

 

***

 

"You know, the whole 'if looks could kill' thing is only a phrase, right? Glaring at me isn't going to accomplish anything."

Quatre sneered and looked away, huddling inside his parka. Trowa's buttons were infuriatingly difficult to push. He stared down into the dark hole in the ice where the line of his pole disappeared and mentally tried to will a fish to bite. The sooner they could get a catch, the sooner they could go back to the cabin. He couldn't even feel his legs and feet anymore and he had to keep glancing down at his hands to make sure they were still there. 

"Why don't you try enjoying yourself?"

Quatre snorted. Enjoy  _what_ exactly? "There's gotta be some cardinal rule about dragging desert people into frozen tundras."

Trowa's expression was irritatingly mild. "Except you're from a colony."

Quatre clenched his teeth. "I'm - my people are - I come from the same stock -" He glanced up and caught Trowa's amused grin. "Oh, shut up."

Trowa laughed lightly. "I'm sorry, baby. But why don't we just try to make the best of it."

"Make the best of what? Freezing our asses off? This is not what I expected when you said a romantic getaway in Canada. I was not picturing this."

Trowa's eyes shined. "And what were you expecting?"

"Cuddling in a cute log cabin with cocoa and blankets and fires and - and - and may I remind you that that cabin is nowhere near anything I've ever seen in those Country Life magazines you're always looking at."

Trowa shrugged. He didn't seem all that bothered by it which pissed Quatre off for some inexplicable reason. "Well, yeah. We are roughing it a little -"

"A _little?_ "

"Quat, you've had to rough it before and you've never complained as much as you're doing now."

"That's because I _roughed_ it in places that did not include the Arctic Circle! There's a _reason_ people don't live here, Trowa. And furthermore -" He stopped short when there was a yank on his line. He gripped his pole, his eyes widening. "Oh, shit! I got one! Trowa, I got one!" He held on for dear life as his catch frantically tried to escape. "Ooh! It's a big one. Shit! What do I do?"

Trowa, more the expert fisherman than Quatre, moved behind his lover and closed his hands over Quatre's. "Okay. Easy, easy. Just slowly reel it up. Pull up a little. There you go." He helped Quatre reel the line in and Quatre laughed in delight as a rather large trout wiggled and thrashed on the end of his hook. 

"I can't believe I actually got one!" He watched as Trowa unhooked it from the line and dropped it into a waiting bucket. He grinned when Trowa looked up and smiled at him warmly. "That was kind of fun," he admitted.

Not even Trowa's smug look could get him down. They would eat tonight and it was all thanks to him. He was practically preening as they walked back to the snow mobile, barely even feeling the cold anymore. He idly realized that was a symptom of hypothermia, but for some reason, it didn't bother him. Hindsight would later reveal that that should have been a red flag. He sighed happily as he climbed up onto the snow mobile and wrapped his arms around Trowa's waist, leaning his head on his lover's back as Trowa started it up.

The snow mobile stuttered. Trowa tried it again. And it stuttered, again. Quatre lifted his head when Trowa gave a confused, "Huh."

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Trowa turned the ignition again, frowning when it wouldn't even turn over. "Uh...it won't start."

"What do you mean it won't start?"

"It won't start! See?" Trowa turned the key again. The snow mobile made a half-assed whirring sound then went quiet.

They were a good ten miles from the cabin and Quatre looked up at the sky, watching as snow began to fall from the dark gray clouds. He blinked as the icy cold flakes landed on his lashes and nose. The flurries quickly began to increase into a moderate squall. As if there wasn't an apocalyptic amount of snow on the ground already. "You're kidding right?"

Trowa's voice was laced with exasperation as it carried over the howling winds and reached Quatre's ears. "Quat. Do you honestly think I would kid about this?"

"Did you put gas in it?"

Trowa threw up his gloves hands. "Of course I did!"

"Did you charge the battery?"

Trowa dropped his hands onto his lap in defeat. "Damn."

"Oh, _Trowa!_ "

 

***

 

Trowa dutifully listened with his characteristically monumental patience while his lover ranted and raved as they trudged through the snow. Quatre's tirade soon became slurred as he pissed and moaned through increasingly numb lips.

" - Cannot believe you. Cannot _believe_ you! Of all the hare-brained ideas. Of all the prospective vacations we could have taken. I wanted to go to the Caribbean. You know what we could be doing right now? That's right. Sipping Mai Tai's on a sunny beach somewhere without a care in the world. But, _no_. We had to come up here to this frozen wasteland so you could pretend to be Paul Bunyan lumberjack extraordinaire -"

Trowa's legendary patience was rapidly running out. "Quat, would you shut up."

Unfortunately, Quatre was on a roll which meant there wasn't much Trowa could do about it until he'd bitched himself out. "I swear to God, if we survive this, I'm going to hunt that travel agent down and Fex Ex her ass all the way up here and leave her for the bears."

Trowa sighed and nudged his scarf up, blinking around watery eyes as the wind blew frigid air and tiny pinpricks of snow into his face. They'd only walked about three miles and Quatre still showed no signs of slowing down. He cursed Trowa, he cursed the travel agent, he cursed himself, his father, his sisters, everyone he'd ever known was apparently responsible for this indignity. 

" - Stupid winter. Stupid Canada. I hate it here -"

"Yes, I know. You've told me about fifty times in the last half hour."

"And if I die first, don't you _dare_ even think about eating me. So help me, I will haunt you for the rest of your days."

Trowa tried to roll his eyes, but discovered they seemed a little frozen in their sockets. "For Christ's sake, Quat. I'm not going to eat you."

They lumbered on through the high drifts of snow, getting deeper now thanks to the current storm. The biting winds penetrated through their clothing and numbed the skin beneath. Trowa was getting more and more worried. They were only five miles from the cabin now, but five more miles in this weather was no longer feasible. Quatre had turned quiet which was also alarming and he kept turning back to make sure his lover was still with him. 

"You doing okay, love?"

Quatre gave no indication that he'd heard him and Trowa stopped, grabbing Quatre's face and lifting his head up. The blond's eyes were cloudy with confusion and Trowa felt his blood go cold.

"You still with me, sweetheart?"

"Hm?"

Trowa hollered to be heard over the wind. "Are you with me, Quat?"

Quatre blinked at him. "I - Trowa?"

"What's wrong, babe?"

He was quiet for a moment and Trowa could see him struggling to answer. "I'm...I'm cold."

Trowa cursed and wrapped his arms around his lover, glancing around for something that could be used as shelter. Quatre was showing ominous signs of hypothermia and he'd never make it another five miles in this storm. Trowa could make out the faint outline of trees and not much else in the whiteout conditions. The forest was their best bet. He held the blond close as he maneuvered them through the snow. He could feel Quatre slowing down, even stopping a few times, wanting to drop. Trowa held him up and forced him to continue on with persistent hands and reassuring words.

"Come on, baby. Hang in there. I'm going to get you warm, okay? You're going to be fine. We just...just need to get you warmed up." He wasn't even sure Quatre could hear him anymore, but the blond did manage to walk with him so at least there was that. 

They reached the trees, the snow and wind not as bad within the sheltered canopy. Trowa searched around for an alcove, breathing a sigh of relief when he found the perfect spot to get his lover and himself out of the wind and snow. There was even enough space to build a small fire. He pulled Quatre under the rock shelf and situated him in the far corner. It was cold, but protected from the worst of the elements. And it was dry. Trowa pulled his gloves off and cupped the chilled face of his lover.

"Hey, sweetheart. Come on, come back to me." He lightly tapped a frozen cheek and Quatre's eyes rolled lazily beneath lowered lids. Trowa's heart hammered in his chest. He had to get Quatre warm immediately. Had to get his body temperature back up, or he'd never survive the storm long enough to get back to the cabin. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and pressed his lips to an icy forehead. "I'm so sorry, baby. Just hang on. Stay with me. I'm going to get you warm."

He pulled the extra blankets out of his pack and swaddled Quatre in them, then pulled his gloves back on. "I'll be right back. I need to find some dry wood so I can build a fire. Just hold on."

Dry wood was difficult to find as most of it was covered in snow, but he did manage to pull several old branches out from under the damp ones. They weren't completely dry, but dry enough that they would burn. He dragged them back to the alcove and quickly checked on Quatre. The blond's eyes were closed, his skin an ashy pallor, his breath slow and shallow. Heart pounding, Trowa got the fire going and then tugged the blankets away from Quatre's body. He pulled away the parka and shirt and stripped him of his boots and pants. The key now was to keep both Quatre and himself warm until the storm passed and then they could walk the remaining five miles to the cabin. There, he could treat Quatre's hypothermia more effectively and wait out the remaining days in the cabin until Sunday when the transport arrived. 

He stripped his own clothes off and lowered himself on top of the blond, shivering as his warm skin came into contact with Quatre's chilled body. He piled the blankets, clothes, and parkas on top of them and let the fire and his own body heat do its job. He peppered gentle kisses onto the icy skin of Quatre's face and willed his warmth into the body beneath him.

"Come on, baby. Come back to me. You can't quit now. Not after everything we've been through. You're tougher than this. You can do it. Just come on back to me." 

He kissed the cold, unresponsive lips, feeling the soft, barely there caress of his love's breath and prayed for the first time in his life.

 

***

 

It took about twenty heart-wrenching minutes before Trowa began to feel the minute tremors in Quatre's body. Soon, the blond was shivering uncontrollably and Trowa pressed their foreheads together and wept in relief.

"Trowa?"

"I'm here, baby. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

"Where are we?"

"We're in an alcove, in the forest. I had to find shelter to wait out the storm. You were suffering from hypothermia."

"I can't stop shaking."

"That's good. That means you're warming up." Trowa clutched the blond tighter, elated to feel the now warm body in his arms. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. We never should have done this."

He was surprised to see Quatre's lips curl up in a smile and jumped a little when still-chilled fingers crept up his back. "Oh, I don't know. This isn't so bad."

Trowa barked out a laugh, dropping his head down onto Quatre's shoulder. "Who knew a little hypothermia could be a prerequisite for romance."

"Anything can be a prerequisite for romance," the blond winked. "So long as you're creative." 

Trowa sucked in a sharp breath when Quatre's hips lifted, rubbing their groins together. "You little minx."

Quatre's own breath came harder, stronger, and Trowa thought it was the most beautiful sound in the world. "I've never done it in the woods."

Trowa could have cried. "I didn't bring any lube."

"I did."

Trowa lifted his head. "You serious?"

Quatre's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Yeah. I always do. Why not? It's in the bag."

Trowa shook his head fondly. "You are such a horny, little perv."

"You love it." Quatre sealed their lips together and Trowa moaned into the kiss. His dick wanted to ignore the alarm bells in his head, but he wasn't too far gone yet for logic. He broke the kiss and looked down into blue eyes, his own swimming with concern.

"I'm not sure we should be doing this right now."

"Why not? What better way to warm me up?" Trowa hissed as a deft hand squeezed his buttock and he lowered his head again, capturing the blond's lips between his own. Quatre playfully nipped at his mouth "Get the lube."

"Yeah, okay. Yeah." He stuck his arm out, blinding reaching for the nylon duffel and pulled it closer. He unzipped it and fished around for the bottle of lube which wasn't easy when Quatre was hell-bent on distracting him. He panted as the blond's tongue dipped into his mouth and he groaned when Quatre's legs opened. He nestled his groin in between the parted thighs and breathed a sigh of relief when his hand finally closed around the bottle. "Got it."

Quatre was already quite worked up when Trowa's hand snaked between his legs. A low groan vibrated his throat when two fingers pierced his opening and Trowa's groin throbbed with desire when Quatre rolled his hips to get deeper penetration. Trowa lightly nipped at the blond's cupid bow and crooked his fingers.

"Oh, _Trowa!_ Yeah - yes. I'm ready. Give it to me."

Trowa coated his erection with trembling hands and eagerly sunk into the tight, velvety heat. He buried his face in Quatre's neck savoring the blond's soft moans. "I love you so much, baby."

"Mmm...Trowa. I love you, too. Now shut up and fuck me."

Trowa grinned and pulled his hips back, relishing in the shaky breaths and whimpers, the shout of pleasure when he thrust back in. Quatre lifted his hips with each push inside, wrapping slender legs around Trowa's waist, his cries of ecstasy loud in the silence of the snow-blanketed woods.

 

***

 

It took another few hours for the storm to blow over, but they scarcely noticed as they passed the time in each other's arms. The fire burned down to embers, but was still warm enough that they could feel the heat on their faces. It finally got to the point where they began to sweat beneath the layers of clothing and blankets.

Before making the journey back to the cabin, Trowa cooked the trout Quatre had caught over the last of the flames. Quatre was still weak with fatigue and Trowa insisted he needed the energy. When the sun finally peeked out from the breaks in the clouds, they gathered their things and headed out to the clearing. Trowa kept a cautious eye on Quatre to make sure he didn't show any signs of worsening and was relieved when he seemed to be doing fine, gradually gaining back his strength and vitality.

"Trowa, I'm fine. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"That! You just - " Quatre made a swirling gesture in front of his face and then pointed at Trowa. He tried to imitate Trowa's alleged expression and Trowa bit his tongue trying not to laugh. "Like - like you think I'm going to get dragged away by a bear, or something."

"Or succumb to hypothermia."

Quatre scoffed. "Been there, done that."

Trowa, too, though he didn't bother to bring it up. He slung an arm around the blond as they meandered through an additional foot, or so of snow. "How many near-death experiences does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

Quatre snorted. "How many?"

Trowa shrugged. "I don't know. That's why I was asking you."

Quatre laughed and shoved at his side. "You're such an idiot."

"But you love me."

The blond sighed. "Yes. God help me, I do." 

"That was good fishing you did earlier. I've never gotten one that big."

"Beginner's luck. Besides I probably would have lost it if you hadn't helped me reel it in."

"Maybe."

They walked in companionable silence for a while before Quatre asked. "So what death defying stunt are you going to have us do tomorrow? Skinny dipping in the lake? Base jumping? Smothering ourselves in pig's blood and running naked into a bear's den?"

"Well, as much fun as those sound, I think you're going to be spending the remainder of the week inside the cabin. You haven't been cleared by a doctor yet -"

"I'm fine, Trowa."

"I'm sure you are, but you still haven't been cleared by a doctor and I'm not going to risk your health, or your life."

"What about the snow mobile?"

"I'll go back and get it tomorrow."

"By yourself? Nuh-uh. No way."

"Quat, it's fine. I know how to handle myself in these conditions."

"But how are you going to get it back?"

"I'm going to take the Snow Cat and tow it back."

Trowa turned, immediately fretting when Quatre stopped short and froze in place, his blue eyes wide. "Baby, what is it? What's wrong?" Quatre lifted a mittened hand and pointed. Trowa followed the direction of his finger, spotting the cabin a few hundred feet away. "Yeah, it's the cabin."

Quatre's head shook back and forth. "Look closer."

Trowa squinted, straining his eyes to see clearer. There was movement near the picture window of the living room. "What is that?"

Quatre dropped his hand and huffed. "It's a fucking bear."

Trowa took a few steps closer, cursing his apparent near-sightedness. "Is it?" Sure enough, it was. It was hanging half in and half out of the now broken window. Its giant, furry ass in the air, its powerful legs kicking against the wood siding as its big bear paws struggled to find purchase on the porch's floorboards. "Well, shit."

They watched as the bear finally got its footing and its upper half appeared as it finished climbing out of the window. It lumbered off the porch and made its trek back into the woods with barely a glance over its shoulder at the two humans in the distance. Quatre pulled his pack off his shoulder and slammed it into the snow. "Son of a bitch!"

Trowa tried desperately to retain calm. "Okay, okay. Let's not freak out."

"Not freak out? Are you kidding? A fucking grizzly bear just ransacked our cabin, not to mention broke the damn window! And it probably ate what little food we had in there." He turned and stomped a few feet away, hands tugging angrily at his hood. " _Fuck!_ "

"Alright, calm down. There's nothing we can do about it now."

Quatre shot him an incredulous look. "Of course there is! I want that bear's hide. I want to make a coat out of it."

Trowa set placating hands on Quatre's shoulders. "Sweetheart, just relax. We're not going to go making coats out of bears' hides. Now, let's be rational."

"'Rational' is not going to fix that window, or get us food."

"No, I'm going to do that and I'm perfectly rational." He pressed a finger to the blond's lips when he opened his mouth to argue. "Relax, babe. I know you're pissed. You have every right to be, but we'll take care of this and we're not going to starve. I know how to hunt, remember? This is still doable."

Quatre stared at him for a moment, then turned away, swiping his bag out of the snow drift. He turned back to Trowa and shook his head. "We could be tipping back Pina Colada's and digging our toes into the warm sand right now. You know that, right?"

"Yes, dear. I know that."

"Sunshine and ocean breezes and all that. Without a care in the world."

"Yes, I know. We'll do that next time." He wrapped an arm around the blond as they made their way up to the cabin. "Think of this as an enriching experience."

Quatre grumbled under his breath, but didn't argue further. They cleaned up the broken glass and tried to salvage as much of the cabin as they could, barricading the window with boards and blankets. It was cold, but the boards and blankets kept the worst of the wind out and the fire took care of the rest of the chill. Trowa sent Quatre to the sofa and wrapped him in the leftover blankets, ordering him to stay put. The blond curled up in his cocoon, only his face visible in the layers of fabric, and opened a copy of the murder mystery that Heero had loaned him. Trowa smiled fondly and plopped down into a chair across from him with his bow and a quiver of arrows.

Quatre looked up from his reading. "You going out now?"

"Soon. I'm going to set some traps for rabbits and squirrels and see if I can snag a deer, or something."

Quatre shook his head and smiled at him. "Lumberjack extraordinaire."

Trowa tapped the tip of an arrowhead against his lips and grinned. "Admit it. You think it's sexy."

Quatre flipped the book over and rested it on his lap. "Hmm...yes, it's very rugged. Though I'm not sure flannel is a good look on you."

Trowa laughed and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. "I think it'll grow on you."

"Yeah, like a bad wart."

"Don't be such a queen."

 

_End._


End file.
